


wholeheartedly

by gingergenower



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Minor Prince "Charming" James | David Nolan/Snow White | Mary Margaret Blanchard, Snark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 23:24:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7990096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingergenower/pseuds/gingergenower
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off the prompt: 'you’re a royal guard and I’m always pestering you because you’re hella cute and getting you to smile makes my day'</p>
            </blockquote>





	wholeheartedly

Sweaty, exhausted, and thrilled, Emma passes the reins of her horse to the stableboy and shrugs off her jacket, throwing it over her shoulder. Her father’s horse clatters into the square, cursing when he sees her waiting for him.

“Oh, father. You’re never going to win again, are you?” she says, and he slides off his horse, rolling his eyes.

“It’s a little early to say that.”

She grins, following after him into the stables and leaning against the door. “It’s not- this is the third time in a row. I’m sorry, but I’ve surpassed you. You might as well give up the crown to me now.”

“Being a faster rider than me will not make you a better ruler,” he says, but there’s a smile in his voice.

“Do you miss the days where you let me win?”

“ _Wholeheartedly_ ,” he says, and the stableboy bites his lip so as not to laugh. Emma winks at him.

“Think of those days fondly,” she says.

A royal guards passes her and bows to her father. Killian is so very good at playing at professionalism around other people, and doesn’t even look at her, but Emma knows the exact chink in his chainmail to press to tickle him. “Your majesty, the queen has requested your presence in your chambers.”

“Is everything well?”

“I believe she’s received a new message on the subject of the banditry in Corona.”

Her father sighs, and nods, kissing Emma on the cheek. “I’m needed.”

“I know. We can duel tomorrow,” she says, shrugging.

“Walk her to the castle,” he says to Killian, and he nods.

“Very good, your majesty.”

Leaving with a swish of his cloak, her father hurries off. Killian bows his head at her, because he knows if he bows fully she’ll clout him around the head, and takes her jacket. She shoves him, rolling her eyes and starting towards the castle in a stroll.

“Your highness, I have to ask that that you refrain from violence, it’s inappropriate,” he says, lips pressed together mournfully. She glares at him. A smirk threatens to emerge.

“I thought guards should only speak when spoken to?”

“That’s children, your highness. I’m sure if you’d led a less sheltered life you would know that.”

“I’m a princess, and I decree that it is certainly guards that should watch their tongue.”

At that, Killian sticks his tongue out and crosses his eyes to try and see it, and she shoves him again, laughing.

“What did we just say about violence, your highness?”

Emma rolls up her sleeve and holds out her arm to him, revealing the green and yellowing bruise on her arm. “I still have this, don’t talk to me about violence.”

He winces, hand catching her arm before she can push the sleeve back down. They’re stood in the doorway to the north side of the castle. “I am sorry about that, you know.”

“Armour’s stronger than skin. Who knew, right?”

That gets a smile, and really, it’s all Emma wants. She first noticed Killian five weeks ago. She’d said something to her mother that made him lose face and laugh, and they’d both turned to him, and he’d straightened up and apologized, but her mother just held back a smile and raised her eyebrows at Emma. At a dance two weeks ago, Emma was bored out of her mind and drinking champagne too fast. He stood at the side of the room, as bored as her, so she’d sidled up to him and made snide comments and cracking jokes until she broke his composure.

She wasn’t exactly sure they could even _be_ friends, but.

He raises her hand to his lips, looking at her through his eyelashes. She forgets how to breathe. “I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive me, your highness.”

The corner of his mouth twitches, and she snorts, yanking her hand back. “You’re an ass.”

“I’ll have you know-”

There’s a shout, and a bang, and Emma doesn’t know anything except she’s shoved backwards and pinned against the wall inside the door by Killian, his hands either side of her head. It’s darker inside, and it takes her a moment for her eyes to adjust to see Killian, so close they’re sharing air, his eyes wide and urgent.

“Are you hurt? _Emma_?”

“No, no, I-”

“Stay here.” He doesn’t wait for her assent, drawing his pistol and peering through the door. He disappears.

Dropping her head back against the wall, she closes her eyes and slows her breathing down, blood thrumming through her veins. She hears shouting, and she brings herself in the moment, panic will do nothing for her and that’s not what she trained to do. She’s reaching for her dagger when Killian walks back through the door, pistol back in his belt, hands up to placate.

“A man accidentally set off his pistol, nothing more,” he tells her. “Are you alright?”

She breathes out, nodding, and her hand drops to her side. “Yes, of course. Thank you.”

Killian offers her a hand to pull her away from the wall. His lips are parted- his heart must have pounded the way hers did, his breathing’s still a little ragged- and she takes his hand but yanks him towards her. 

He catches himself, forearm braced against the wall, but this time his body is flush with hers and all she has to do is rock upwards onto her toes and their lips will meet. He’s staring at her, and too late she realises he might have only ever been humouring her. She’s a princess, her position of power over him demands a different kind of treatment, whether or not he likes her, and she can’t kiss him-

He kisses her. Hand catching her waist, he drags her in tighter, and she’s kissed before, but it’s never been like this- this is confident and attentive, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of her neck and a shudder ripples down her spine, and she should pull back and make sure he’s certain but she thinks the way he’s doing this speaks for him. She pulls back when she can’t breathe, but he only moves his lips to her jawline, pressing kisses up and along it.

“Killian-” 

She can barely say his name she’s so disconcerted, and he groans in her ear. Sighing, she tilts her head aside to give him better reach.

He’s just found a spot under her ear that makes her squirm when he pauses, pulling back. “Your parents would have my head for this.” Not so much scared, it’s as though it’s only just occurred to him. 

She hooks her fingers into his chainmail and teases him back. “Well, it’s not in _my_ immediate plans to tell them.”

His eyes flicker from hers to her lips, and she smirks.

“Unless, of course, you want to ask their permission-”

He’s kissing her again, and she realises she should’ve dragged him into an alcove at that damn party and forgotten introductions.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm trying my hand at fluff be kind


End file.
